Deidara (image)

I decided to give digital art a try. This is my favorite Naruto character ever. . . .Deidara! He the coolest, awesomest (most slightly evil) character EVER!!!  The character is the property of Masahi Kishimoto; this is just fanart.

I spent about 4 hours working on this and I never knew that you could want to strangle a computer.  Anyway, my computer is still unstrangled (barely) and I have come out with an acceptable first attempt at the world known as digital art.

In a tribute to my subject, Deidara, I would blow up the image, but that would entail blowing up my computer, and I am not buying a new one. (For those of you who don't know, Deidara's catchphrase is, "Art is a. . . .bang!"  Hence the exploding computer analogy.)

Peace out peoples!

KobaltWolf

Outside The Window (poem)

I had a particularly bad day today and I was in something of a bad mood.  Sorry if this seems really depressing, but it reflects my feelings, and that's what poems are supposed to do, right?

Outside the Window by KobaltWolf

I stand outside the window,

My reflection shimmers with every movement, as if I'm a wraith and nothing more.  

Nothing substantial.

And it threatens to disappear from both my view and everyone else's.

I stand there and stare at their circle of friends; I can never be a part of it, though my heart strings pull painfully at every word that they speak and my muscles strain with unheard frustration.

My lips move, but no words come out and I try to shout, but I'm encased in a cold, hard shell.

Despite all the friendliness I try to employ, I'm shut down like I'm some sort of freak.  

And, sure, they'll say some polite hellos, but they just remain out of reach, behind that window.

I stand outside the window, looking in, but I can't ever join in because I can't be accepted, 

For who I am.

Mothers (poem)

I did this just today when I was really board.  So, hope you like it!



Mothers by KobaltWolf


A mother brings you into life,
Kicking and screaming though you might,
And she will hold your pudgy face,
With care and love to win every race.

A mother holds your hand in life,
Though your hand's like a dead fish at times,
And she helps you cross the busy road
And always make it to the other side.

A mother pushes you far in life,
Though you dig your heels in the dirt to fight,
And she will not ever take no,
As an answer and tells you again to go.

A mother nags you all the time in life,
Though you hold your breath until you turn a pretty shade of blue,
And she'll tell you to finish your homework,
And then rush you to the emergency room.

A mother embarrasses you all the time in life,
Though you shift as far away as possible in the shopping store,
And then she'll check you for your pant size,
And your cheeks will turn as red as wine.

A mother does all these things in life,
Though you might not like some, or many,
They all pass eventually,
Though, a mother does do one thing throughout life,
And it should be noted that she doesn't take any breaks. . . .

She loves you.

The Heralding Cry (poem)

I have always been fascinated by wolves(hence my blogger name.)  This is a little poem I wrote on a very tired, and very bored, whim.

The Heralding Cry by KobaltWolf

Some say the wolf heralds the end,
Others say its the borning cry.
From what I've heard at the eve of dusk,
Of the howl that chills both bone and trust,
I'd stock with those who favor worse
And think Artemis' hound a foul curse.

Though those few with a better try,
At humanity's fragile life and line,
Are those who, at the break of dawn,
When Hemera peaks and Nyx retreats,
Hear with renewed vigor,
The wolf's heralding howl,
Earth's borning cry.



Here's a little extra info on some of the more unusual words in the poem.
Hemera -- the Greek goddess of day
Nyx -- the Greek personification of night
Artemis -- the Greek goddess of maidenhood and hunting.  Often traveled with wolf-like hounds

Dune Walker (short story)

Dune Walker by KobaltWolf

He walked across the dunes, his feet sinking down into the ever-shifting placidness. The desert sand threatened to swallow him whole if he stood still for too long. So he trudged onward, sand-laden wind tugging at his clothes and the sun beginning to sink below the ever-distant mountains.

Those mountains that never seemed to get any closer. No matter how hard he pushed forward, they always stood out of reach..

And he would walk, and walk, and walk until his shoe soles wore down to nothing and his eyes were watering with unspoken tears, and yet he still would walk towards those mountains.

The wanderers that sometimes crossed his unbroken path would tell him to "turn around and don't come back."

But he would keep walking, across that desert sea, until those mountains got closer.

Various Poems and Limericks

So. . . .these are a few poems and limericks of mine.  Their subjects range from the wind to moths to a man with three very annoyed cats.  Enjoy!

The Wind by KobaltWolf

The wind gallops to and fro,

Across my face does it blow,

It whistles so wistful and ripples the roses,

Twisting the clouds in all sorts of poses.

The Forest by KobaltWolf

The forest begotten,

Of the seed,

It stands in glory,

Immortal indeed,

The wind and rain carry no shock,

A home for Oberon and for Puck.

The forest forgotten,

Out of sight,

Daunting, unwanting,

Full of spite,

Trails wind, sour and twisting,

No star to guide,

Treacherous, angry, alone in the night.

The forest rotten,

To the core,

Life is fleeting,

But maybe more,

Though it stood immortal,

In its glory,

The forest fades to just a story.

The Moth by KobaltWolf

When you stay up late and read at night,

With your lamp turned on and shining bright,

A moth will come and fling itself,

At the window above your bookshelf.

Its feathery gray wings blurring might,

It crashes again and again at height,

Trying to reach the lamp and sweet heat,

When they are obviously not to meet.

But why?

To feel one shred of comfort?

To know its not alone in the night?

Or is it to feel that single spark of contentment when it reaches its goal.

Three Cats  by KobaltWolf

I once met a man with three cats,

Who said cats lie only on mats,

   The cats snubbed three noses,

   Unsheathed three toeses,

By morning his car had three flats.

Madeleine by KobaltWolf

There once was a girl named Madeleine,

Who would sit all day and cry and whine,

Her parents would send her to her room,

But they couldn't seem to end her fume.

They wore earplug and earmuff,

Earwing and eartuft,

And closed her door and locked it tight,

And covered their ears with pillows at night,

Madeleine would whine and cry and shout,

But no one would come and get her out.

"I'll be quiet, I promise!  Let me out, I implore!"

She cried--too late--and wasn't heard from anymore.